


At Least Leave a Note

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: DIDverse, Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self Harm, Suicide, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 18:10:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/677330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard was thinking about death a lot. Graveyards and bleeding and drowning and bleach haunted Jim’s thoughts too, even though he didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not when there was still a game to play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Least Leave a Note

Richard was thinking about death a lot. Graveyards and bleeding and drowning and bleach haunted Jim’s thoughts too, even though he didn’t want to die. Not yet. Not when there was still a game to play.

Richard thought about fire and ropes around his neck and more often than not his hands were around his own neck, squeezing until he could see black spots, never quite brave enough to push harder, to get the right pressure point and  _snap._

Jim wasn’t sure what tipped him over the edge. He was crying, but that was fairly normal. Richard cried all the time, when his tea was too hot or when Sebastian stayed out for too long without warning or when Jim even began to try to speak to him. He sobbed until his voice hurt and he had to call in sick the next day at his job (they knew he was  _ill_ , he was too good of an actor to lose).

It might have been his dreams or maybe something on the telly that made him realize how bad off he really is but all of a sudden Jim was aware of a sharp pain, not physical but emotional and the graveyards were back and the other side, how Richard thought it would be like the Nothing but better, how he wished Jim wouldn’t be there.

Jim tried taking over but Richard was forcing him back down and all Jim could be content to do was watch through Richard’s eyes as he walked calmly into the bathroom.

_You should at least leave a note._

The calm went away then and Richard sat on the counter with the bottle of pills that made him sleep without dreaming at night though maybe they were the pills that he took in the morning so he didn’t cut himself and Jim’s voice wasn’t like an aeroplane motor.

Either way, Richard didn’t seem to care. he opened the bottle and stuck a pill in his mouth and swallowed.

_Richard._

Richard stood up, another pill. He swallowed.

In the living room, another pill.

He stopped by his studio to paint over his last picture. Another pill.

I’m sorry.

Another pill.

In his bedroom, another pill. Laying down and he just emptied the rest of the bottle and stuck them in his mouth, swallowing them with the cup of water that was always on Sebastian’s side of the bed and curling up to wait.

_Why?_

“I want to die,” Richard mumbled, not wanting to talk to Jim, not wanting Jim to exist in the first place. “No one loves me and I the myself and  _you_  hate me. Just let it happen, Jim. It’ll be okay.”

_I hate you. You’re pathetic._

Richard just shook his head and let darkness engulf him.

—-

And Jim dragged himself to the surface, fighting his body, how the world swayed and spun and dragged himself back into the bathroom, forcing fingers down his throat until he was tasting blood and vomit. He was a fucking mess but he didn’t care. He had to find his phone. Sebastian. 999.

Phone.

It was on the table, Jim was practically dragging himself through the flat looking for it. He collapsed onto the floor when he did, he felt weak and he hurt everywhere and he felt empty, Richard was quiet.

He was too quiet.

Jim was almost afraid he’d died, but that couldn’t happen, dear lord please no.

He called Sebastian first.

“Hi, darling, is anything wrong?” Sebastian said, his voice too cheery.

“Fucking twat tried to kill himself,” Jim croaked and he heard Sebastian phone hit the ground of wherever he was, the store probably or a friends house even though if it were up to Jim, Sebastian wouldn’t  _have_ any friends.

“He  _what_?”

“You heard me. Suicide. Need to call an ambulance, Jesus, I think I’m gonna need out stomach pumped.”

Sebastian swore loudly and started shouting at Jim, that this was his fault, maybe he should be the one thinking about dying, how he was going to  _hurt_  when Sebastian got there but Jim hung up on the sniper mid-rant and called 999.

“Why?” Jim spat when he felt Richard stirring.

_I thought you weren’t going to stop me this time._

Jim just laughed and curled up against the wall, waiting. Someday Richard would know his place and know he couldn’t just  _kill_ them. He’d have to try harder than that to get Jim to go away.


End file.
